Night of Chaos
by LightStars
Summary: ll Town of Salem ll Life was normal for these 15 people, at least, until they volunteered for a special company and began a new life. With no memory of the past, and new memories of war and killing, it leads to differences. The dead know the truth, the living are all dying, and there is someone watching them on this journey...
1. Prologue

**I do not own Town of Salem. :)**

 **And besides, I will be changing some things. Full moons are on every 3rd night, not every 2nd. Veterans, Janitors, and Vigs (as well as other roles that have restrictions) will now have 5 bullets/alerts/etc.**

 **More changes will be announced in future chapters!**

* * *

Prologue

 **Day One**

Snow was falling from the skies, bit by bit. It gathered on the grass and on the roofs of the houses. There was a contraption in the center, made out of wood. It was covered in snow, as well as the chair below the contraption. There was a rope, hanging from the build, and it was dripping with icicles. The platform that it was placed on was made out of stone, and it was somehow not covered in snow.

Meanwhile, fifteen people were just standing in a circle, unsure of what to do. They were having their own little conversations, secretly. There was no sun, but they knew that it was almost nighttime. And they didn't want it to be nighttime.

They didn't like the world they were in. But they had to go here because this place, the town of Salem, had cheap rent, and they had special skills that allowed them to live here. The brochure promised a life that would require no work and no life-threatening events. And thanks to the contract that they signed when they were moving in, they couldn't move out, or they would be forced to pay an extra amount of millions. For some reason.

There were people of different ages and sizes. They all looked different, and nobody looked the same. They all came alone, and not in a group. They were all in different clothing, and not the same.

They continued to whisper and talk when the snow suddenly stopped, revealing the sun, which was starting to set. The whispering and the muttering got louder and louder as the sun finally set, and it was nighttime. They all grumbled in fear, as well as misery, and walked back into their homes.

* * *

 **Night One**

One person walked back to their house and immediately went through his files. 15 people, including him. They were all different, and all their information was...

Here. A house with many cabinets, and they were all filled with paper. There were so many papers that putting all of his papers on a scale would result in a weight that was heavier than an elephant, but he enjoyed it. The heavier they were, the better.

Because these papers contained information. Information that he enjoyed using, especially against people. Looking through his entire collection of papers, he found the fifteen that he needed, including his own, which was a very, very thick pile. He smiled a smile that one would make if they were watching the world burn, and read all of them.

 _Garwin Webb, age 22_

 _Carrie Kourmine, age 19_

 _Brandon Joans, age 20_

 _Karyn Campbell, age 20_

 _Andy Diaz, age 21_

 _Michelle Tran, age 19_

 _John Coleman, age 20_

 _Vanessa Li, age 20_

 _James Simmons, age 19_

 _Jenna Wells, age 20_

 _Edward Warren, age 21_

 _Leona Gardner, age 20_

 _Peter Chen, age 19_

 _Ivy Curtis, age 20_

Too bad there were no roles. He took one last look at all of them before gritting his teeth. He didn't know if they were mayor or something. He put the files all in a separate pile.

And then the last file. His own file, which was huge. He gave it a quick skim before putting it back in the cabinet. But the information in the folder was private, and if anyone got to it, he would die. Well, no, he would cry first, before dying. He took one last look at the folder before receiving a letter through the slot in his door. He opened it and it read,

 _Peter Chen_

He took Peter's files and took out the file that seemed to be very, very embarrassing. He copied it again by hand and put it in a separate envelope, as well as a message in Latin. "Silentium est aureum," he wrote on another piece of paper, as well as the translation right below it. He put these contents in the envelope, and sealed it, before running out the door to put the envelope through the door slot. He grinned at his work as he walked back home, at least, before hearing a gunshot and a scream. Without thinking, he began to run as fast as he could, back home, smiling when he remembered that this was the work of his godfather. The one that would be in charge of all the killing and whatnot. He opened the door and quickly shut it, before walking up to his bedroom and falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

But he knew that he was careless with one thing. He placed a stamp with a pictures of a rose, its thorns nice and sharp, on the envelope. Why? It was his symbol. The symbol of thorns, for Nick Espina.

He seemed to smile in his sleep, thinking that this would be a wonderful home.

* * *

Somebody was sleeping soundly in his bed, at least, until he heard the slot open and close. Panicking, Peter ran down the stairs and opened the envelope that was addressed to him. _This could not be happening_ , he thought. _I will not be-_

Blackmailed. He was blackmailed. He found information on what happened a year ago, when he was a careless 18-year-old. When he drank too many bottles of beer and ended up running, naked, down Times Square, before the cops caught him. And even worse, the blackmailer took time sketching his naked body, running down Times Square.

He took out the second piece of paper that was in the envelope, and ready, "Silence is golden." He knew what was going to happen. He had to shut up and keep his mouth shut, or else, this information will be going around the town, making him a miserable Peter. He groaned as he noticed the stamp on the envelope. A rose, with thorns on it. Interesting. It must be a family mark or a stamp. Peter sighed and lay his head on the table as he wondered how he would be able to live in this world.

Well, today, a world with silence. He wondered how he would live in a world of silence.

* * *

One was listening to the sound of everyone sleeping, with the exception of fourteen people as they were off doing their own thing in the middle of the night. They were watching the screens carefully, when they saw a flash of red on the screen. Grimacing in unison, one of them wrote something down on their notepad. They were failing, but they were supposed to be gifted. The people that they sent in were also skilled... but in the art of killing instead.

They sighed as they continued to watch the screens to see what they would do. They were pressing buttons, over and over, looking at a different person each time they were pressing the button, until one shouted, "Action on Camera 11!"

They all switched to Camera 11, where they saw Nick Espina giving Peter Chen a piece of paper. They were starting to complain, about how useless this was, and how they would all die in a matter of days.

At least, until someone said, "No. I believe they will live. It will only take time. They were once allies, and now they are strangers. Well, most of them were once allies. It will take time, I promise. It will take time."

* * *

 **And that's it! A quick introduction of only two of our characters, as well as something else...**

 **Each chapter will most likely be day and night combined. :)**

 **See you soon! (Reviews please)**

 **-Lightstars**


	2. Chapter 1

**I don't own Town of Salem.**

* * *

Chapter 1

 **Day Two**

The sun was partially up when people were walking outside. It was another chilly day, and the snow was still on the ground, footsteps on it, creating a little groove. The mafia were clean- they erased the tracks from Nick's house to Peter's house, as well as the from godfather's house to the victim's house. Two bodies, with only one knife stab through their heart, had a bloody note on their chest, as well as a will in their hand.

They all seemed to gasp when they saw the bodies- one was Carrie Kourmine, and the other was Andy Diaz. They were both still- other than the fact that they had blood all over them, they looked like they were sleeping. In fact, Carrie had a smile on her face, and it was strange, looking at them like this. Strange. The blood around them were all red, and it looked like way too much blood to be able to fit into a single human.

The rest of the town seemed to freeze in their steps when they saw the bodies. At least, until they began to mutter. The muttering got louder and louder, until they became actual town conversation.

"Why would anyone do this?" Leona Gardener asked, both hands on her head. "We're going to die at this rate!"

"The serial killers and the mafia did this!" John Coleman yelled. "We must find them!"

There was silence as soon as he said this, and then Garwin Webb asked, "How do you know? How do you know that it's not only two serial killers, but one serial killer and mafia?"

Even more silence.

"I know because it seems reasonable! Why don't we take a look at the death notes and see?" John asked, talking without showing any sign of panicking.

Garwin smiled and walked over to Isabelle's body, and gingerly took the death note and the will from her. He opened the death note and read, "She is dead, and you will join her. Love, John Coleman." He waved the paper up in the air, and seeing John's paper white face, he asked, "Is this not enough? And let's look at the will."

He opened the will, and read, "Doctor Carrie Kourmine. She was a doctor. Wouldn't killing her reduce the chance of having her heal someone?"

"Nonsense!" John yelled in response. "I've been framed! They wanted me to die! And I blame it on you, Garwin. You put this blame on me." He continued to talk, louder and louder. "You framed me, and you will be lynched by the innocents!"

"But what if you are the serial killer, or the mafia?" Garwin asked, as he looked around, with a confident look.

The town began to whisper to each other in agreement. "I agree with Garwin!" James Simmons yelled. He had this confused look on his face, like he wasn't sure why he was agreeing. "John is lying- he probably put his name in the death note to trick us all! So that we wouldn't lynch him!"

John was still paper white as he pointed at James. "You lie! You are mafia, and so are you!" He pointed at Garwin as he took a step backwards.

"Silence." Garwin said, a smile on his face. "You are charged for committing a crime. The crime is treason. Please stand on the platform."

John gulped as he walked up to the platform. He nearly slipped on some of the ice, and then stepped on the chair. He put his neck through the noose, and Garwin pointed at him. "Defend yourself." he said.

John sucked in a breath and said, "I am a retributionist. I will revive Carrie tonight if you let me live. If I die, who will revive the doctor? And besides, if Andy has a more useful role, I may revive him again."

Garwin glanced at Nick. "Go check on Andy."

Nick walked over to Andy and took the death note, as well as the will. He checked his pockets, and it was empty. The will said, "Andy Diaz the Useless Survivor. Please save me; I decided to not vest myself on Night 1."

The death note said, "Goodbye. Nobody will miss you.", followed by a drawing of a heart.

Garwin blinked at John. "So revive the doctor tonight. I will spare you, and I will ask the town to spare you. But if I do not see Carrie alive tomorrow, you will take the blame."

"I will." John said, as he stepped down the chair. "I will revive her. I swear on my life."

* * *

 **Night Two**

"Well, Garwin's dead tonight." Carrie said to the medium.

"He might be dead." the medium added. "We don't know if he is dead."

"Yeah, and Carrie will be able to see the real world again, if John is correct." Andy spat bitterly. "And I'll just be here, in the afterlife, talking to you every night until you take your last breath."

"Sorry, Andy." Carrie said, smirking a bit. "You do realize that I healed him night one, right?"

"And not me?" Andy asked. "I was your best friend before- before we came here!"

"This is interesting." the medium said. "Before? Did we even have a life before we came here? My mind is strangely blank; I do not remember anything that happened before this, other than the fact that I moved here because of cheap rent."

"Medium," Carrie said, shaking her ghostly head. "Don't you remember? We all volunteered for Experimental Institution for the Gifted. Or, the EIG. You did as well, my friend."

"I did?" the medium asked, looking confused. "Well, that's weird. I didn't expect the truth to be like this. But is John innocent?"

"I believe he is." Andy answered.

"Yeah." Carrie added. "I believe John is."

"In that case, any tips for me? I don't like it when I get struck by the medium's curse." the medium asked.

"Yes, my dear medium." Andy replied. "Be careful out there."

* * *

Nick cursed as he walked through the piles of snow to where the mafia meeting would be. It was in a dark, dark place, where no townie would be able to see them. He walked as fast as he could, but silently at the same time, eager to not allow any of the town members to see him. He walked through snow and someone's house, and he smiled when he reached the meeting spot.

James, Karyn, Jenna, and Leona. They were sitting in a circle, and Nick joined them in their conversation. "So," he began. "Who are we planning to destroy tonight?"

Karyn smiled. "The consigliere here found out that Garwin was escort. He's useless."

"Yeah." Leona said, smiling.

"Seriously?" Jenna asked, looking disgusted. "And he didn't roleblock?"

"Of course he would't." James replied. "He was probably seeing if anything was out of the ordinary."

"Ugh, well, if we knew that, we would have attacked." Jenna said. She found the chance to frame, and winked at James. "Am I correct, Brandon?"

James imitated his voice to the best of his ability and asked, "Don't say my name! There might be a spy here."

"Oh, please, why would there be a spy?" Karyn asked, scoffing. "Okay, then, my friends. You know what to do." She handed out a bunch of envelopes and they opened it in unison. They looked up and nodded at her, and they walked away, not even saying another word.

* * *

 _Brandon, and some other people,_ Ivy thought. _Who were the other mafia anyways?_

She shivered under her fur jacket, and walked back home as fast as possible. Her black hair was bobbing up and down, and she was small enough to be able to squeeze into small spaces. At least, until she heard a voice behind her, saying, "I'm behind you~"

She turned around, only to see an envelope. For some reason, even though the mafia meeting only ended a few seconds ago, the envelope was already here. She took it, and opened it, only to find the words _Silence is golden_ , and a detailed description of her mistake.

 _It was the middle of summer when she decided to participate in the diving contest..._

No, she would not think about that. She shook her head, and read the detailed report. The blackmailer even added a picture of her mess, and she growled, walking back home, determined to not allow the blackmailer get to her. She sighed once she got home, and put her head in her hands as soon as she got in, wondering how she got into this mess.

* * *

John walked to the graveyard as he took out a vial of clear liquid. He looked for the grave of Carrie, and inhaling, he took off the stopper and said to the grave, "Carrie Kourmine, I bring you back to the world of the living." He tightened his grip on a shovel that he was holding, and poured the clear liquid all over the dirt.

"I'm sorry, Miss Kourmine. I must disrupt your sleep." he muttered, digging up the dirt carefully. He continued to dig and dig until all the soil was gone, and he was staring at Carrie's body, all pale. Her eyes were open, and by the looks of it, she was living. Squealing, she jumped up and hugged John. "I thought you wouldn't do this for me."

John blushed. "Well, it was that, or it was for me to die."

"Shut up." Carrie said, her eyes shining. "You still made a selfless sacrifice."

John hugged her back, and they stood there, hugging each other until John pulled away. "Why are we doing this?" he whispered. "I remember something, but I don't know why we're doing this anyways."

Carrie smiled at first, and then the memories began to fade. Her face turned blank, and she asked, "Why are we doing this?"

John shrugged, but he put his arm around her again. "You must be cold, after coming back from the dead."

Carrie managed a smile. "Not really. I'm actually pretty warm."

"Be quiet." John said, pretending to be stern. "We have to bring you back home."

"Home?" Carrie asked. "Well, sure."

Both John and Carrie walked to Carrie's house, where they fell asleep until the sun came up.

* * *

Vanessa was outside of Edward's house. He wasn't inside. She grinned. This would make everything easier. Taking out a gallon of gasoline, she deliberately applied the gasoline to every single part of the house. Using a paintbrush, she painted the gasoline onto the walls and the cabinets. However, she was careful enough to not apply the gasoline to the spots that he would be touching, such as the floor and the doorknobs. She continued to paint the gasoline onto the house, and she applied her last touch- creating a trap.

She put another gallon of gasoline above the door, and used string and other gears to make it so that when Edward opened the door, the gasoline would all be poured onto him. She smiled, proud of her work, and hopped out of the house using the window.

She ran back home and smiled again, proud of her work.

* * *

Garwin was not a beautiful woman. No, he was a handsome man, with his brown hair combed and neat, his dark brown eyes that seemed to bore into one's soul (but in a good way), and he was strong. He was tall, as well, and he was able to distract anyone he wanted to.

He wore a leather jacket and tried to make himself look even more handsome. After his transformation, he took out his will and wrote: "Night Two: I decided to role block Brandon. Hope he's not serial killer." He sighed. If Brandon was the serial killer, he would most likely be dead. Oh well. Might as well.

He walked over to Brandon's house, the will in his pocket. He took a deep breath when he reached the front door, and raised his hand, ready to knock on the door. But even before he knocked, the door swung open, and there was Brandon, in clothing covered with blood, and holding a knife. He had a grin on his face, and he looked different. Not like the sane Brandon that was in the circle. No; he looked insane.

Garwin turned around, ready to run, when he saw a shadow jumping from the roof of Brandon's house. That shadow held a knife as well, and he was wearing black clothing. He even decided that it was a good idea to cover every single part of him (except for his eyes) up, and Garwin saw those familiar dark brown eyes.

"James," he whispered. He hoped that James would kill Brandon for him, but all he did was say, "Sorry, Garwin. It's time."

Garwin turned around again, and Brandon was walking towards him, an insane look in his eyes. "It is time."

Garwin was only able to let out a loud scream as James and Brandon attacked.

* * *

Peter walked over to Ivy Curtis's house and looked through her window, only to see devices that could mean two things: Ivy was a blackmailer, or a spy. There were cabinets in her house as well, and files on top of her table. Otherwise, she was a normal person, and she shouldn't be suspected. But these files? Oh, she might be a blackmailer. But it was nice to think that Ivy didn't blackmail him. No, not at all.

He sighed as he walked back home, only to see a shadow running in and out again. He immediately yelled, "Hey!" and ran straight to his house, terrified about what might happen. Was the shadow an arsonist? A blackmailer? A framer? He didn't know. He continued to run, faster and faster, not even feeling tired. He heard a scream- a masculine scream- and froze. Who was screaming? And why did it have to be so goddamn loud? He shrugged, confused, and continued to run back to his own house to see what was wrong.

He ran home, only to see his door open. He slowly walked in, terrified of what might happen. It was all dark, and mysterious, and he didn't really notice anything different, except he smelled something that was great. It was a combination of flowers and air freshener, but that just made him more suspicious. He turned on the lights, and was greeted with a normal house.

"What the hell?" he muttered.

He sat down at a nearby table, and put his head in his hands, wondering what could have happened.

* * *

Edward Warren was taking a walk around the town, at least, until he returned home. He didn't smell anything different, but when he opened the door, a gallon of gasoline drenched him. He took a deep breath, panicked, and ran to open a faucet or something. Nothing. He continued to run, checking all the faucets in his house, only to find that they were all broken or something. Feeling tears swelling up in his eyes, he knew that his life was going to end someday. Tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, it was going to end.

He took a paper towel and tried to clean off the gasoline, not noticing that his entire house was covered in gasoline.

* * *

"They're failing."

The man sitting at the screens snickered as his partner frowned. "They're our smartest. They're supposed to be able to live. What happened?"

"Scientist Warren- you know, the guy that injected animal genes into himself- was doused by Agent Li. Agent Webb was killed by both Scientist Joans and Representative Simmons." the man at the screens said, pushing his glasses up. "They're all going to die in a matter of days, at least, until the bad ones start to die."

His partner seemed to laugh. "Remember the other person? He said that they would adjust and calm down. What's the chance of happening now?"

"The person says that it's possible, but it's now a slim chance." the man who said that they would adjust as time passed was at the door, glowering at his colleagues. "And they might. As I said, it would take time."

"Pah!" the guy at the screens exclaimed. "Like that's going to happen."

The man at the door turned around and walked away, ignoring the laughter of his colleagues.


	3. Chapter 2

**I do not own Town of Salem.**

* * *

Chapter 2

 **Day 3**

 _What the hell?_ John asked as he walked out of his house, only to see a body- Garwin's. Sure, he was a jerk, but he didn't deserve to die already.

There were two knife stabs, and strange enough, it seemed to have no blood coming out of it. It looked like he was stabbed, and then they cleaned him up all nice and neat.

John walked over to Garwin as the rest of the town members walked out of his house. They saw Garwin, their leader and a townie that they were able to trust, and gasped. The mafia were about to die of laughter (as well as Brandon), but they managed to keep a straight face and gasped in horror.

John stood up as he glanced at Carrie's house. He was waiting for her to get out... but he didn't know why. I mean, they were complete strangers, and she didn't even know him well. But eventually, Carrie walked out, ignoring the stares from the rest of the town members, and managed to flash a smile.

"I am back, and ready to heal." she said, taking out a tiny knife. It was obviously meant for surgery, and she looked dangerous, as well as helpful, with the knife.

John smiled gently. "Welcome back, Carrie Kourmine." And then he faced the town. "Do you not see that I have revived the doctor? I am not suspicious. I am the retributionist, and I have revived Carrie Kourmine."

"Lies!" Brandon yelled. "You asked the retributionist to revive Carrie. You didn't do it- you killed the man that was against you- Garwin!"

"No, he didn't." Carrie replied firmly. "I saw him after I came back from the dead. He was the first thing I saw, but you were not. What was Garwin, John?"

John walked over to the body of Garwin, which was still and paper white. He ignored the wounds and pulled out his will, which was in his jacket, and read, "Night Two: I decided to role block Brandon. Hope he's not serial killer."

Almost immediately, everybody looked up at Brandon, their faces still. "It makes sense." Vanessa said. She pointed a finger at Brandon. "You tried to frame John, because he was an enemy of Garwin. It would look like John killed him instead of you killing him! Lynch Brandon!"

Brandon turned paper white this time, as the entire town pointed at the rope and yelled at Brandon. With no other choice, he walked up to the ring of rope, put his neck through it, and stepped on the chair.

"Defend yourself." John said coolly. Carrie glared at Brandon.

"I will, and I shall." Brandon replied calmly, although his face was still white. He pulled out a silver scalpel. "I will heal anyone with this. Carrie and I are both doctors, and we will heal together, no matter what happens. I was not able to heal anyone yesterday, due to the fact that Garwin talked to me and we ended up in deep conversation. But the serial killer attacked him with a flash of darkness, and he died, and I was unable to heal him. I do not understand why you are thinking about lynching me, but it is unnecessary." He stopped after that.

"He lies." James said, stepping forwards. "I am the lookout. There was only one person who visited him- Brandon. Brandon will die, and he should die, because it means only one thing- Brandon is the serial killer."

"What do you not understand? I am the doctor, and you are the serial killer, since you have seen me." Brandon replied.

"I saw you and your insane look in your eyes." James spat. "You are the serial killer, I promise you. There is an issue with you, and we shall put an end to that. All who wants to end his life, say aye!"

There was a chorus of "aye", and John smiled as he walked up to the chair. "Goodbye, Brandon. Enjoy the afterlife."

He kicked the chair, and Brandon was immediately choking as the rope tightened around his neck. He kicked around as his face turned purple, and was still after a minute or so.

John searched his pocket, and found a will that read, "Brandon the Serial Killer. Die by my hands, or die by the rope."

John raised the paper up into the air and said, "Garwin has been avenged, as well as Andy." He stepped on the chair and said, "Night is falling. Good luck to you all."

* * *

 **Night Three**

Edward, still covered in gasoline, grinned when he saw the full moon. He began to transform, and his regular human skin became the fur of a wolf. His eyesight became sharper, as well as his ears, and his teeth became sharp teeth; sharp enough to bite human flesh. He wasn't human anymore- no, he was a werewolf, ready to kill someone, especially the one who decided that dousing him was a good idea.

He walked out of his door, only to see nothing. It was all empty- he expected the arsonist to be standing right there, a match in his or her hand. But there was nobody, and he growled a bit. There was nobody to kill, and the "lookout", James, might see him, even though it would mean that he would die. Put he would have a split second to write that in his will, and it was better not to take the chance.

He closed his eyes and headed straight to Jenna's house, hoping that nobody would notice him.

"Medium, who are you?" Andy asked, curious.

The medium smiled, his face covered by a hood. "You know me, don't you? I was your supervisor, and I come to see if you are doing well in the afterlife. You do know that you must return to the EIG afterwords, but the last three survivors will be back to the EAT."

"EAT?" Garwin asked, confused. And then he seemed to brighten. "I know who you are- you're-"

"Don't say anything." the medium said, placing a finger on Garwin's ghostly lips. "None of your allies are mediums. I know exactly what they are, and so do you."

"I do?" Andy and Garwin both asked. As an afterthought, Garwin added, "Sir."

"Of course you do. You know that there is an arsonist out there, and Brandon- poor Brandon- is sitting there, on a rock." the medium said.

Brandon was. He had his head in both hands, and he looked depressed. Andy felt sympathy leap toward him, but they all failed their mission. Who knows who would pass this mission?

"So sir," Andy began. "Are we going to stay dead?"

The medium laughed. "Don't call me sir. It's wasting a split second, and I don't like wasting split seconds. But no, you are not going to stay dead. You will experience what happens, and no matter how much information comes to me, the town will never know."

Andy hesitated. "How many mafia are there?"

"Five, if I remember correctly." the medium replied.

"Five?" Andy asked. "FIVE?"

The medium seemed to smile under the hood. "Be glad it's not like seven. Although I prefer to only have about six mafia. Or less."

"Okay then..." Andy said. He was about to add sir, but remembered what the medium said.

"But can we at least call you by name?" Garwin said randomly. He didn't like the fact that he couldn't say his name, or anything. It was annoying.

"No. The town might hear you." the medium said, hand raised to stop him.

"We- We're _dead,_ if you didn't notice." Garwin replied. "How can they hear us?"

The medium smiled, but didn't reply. "Good luck in the afterlife. But I must go." He left as quickly as possible, leaving a sobbing Brandon, and a confused Garwin, as well as a normal Andy behind.

* * *

The mafia decided that it was a good idea to communicate by text messaging, since if there was a spy (and they found out that there was), it would be harder for her to see the messages. But she was going to die anyways.

 _Ivy Curtis, right?_ James typed.

 _Yeah, Ivy Curtis. And remember, blackmail Peter._ Karyn typed back. _Everyone else, do whatever._

 _Seriously?_ Jenna asked, disgusted. _This is not going to end well._

 _Ugh, well, you know, you have to do better than say, 'This is not going to end well.'_ Karyn typed. _We must live and kill the town. Or did you forget?_

 _I didn't forget._ Jenna asked. _I just had to ask. I thought you would give us orders, like last night._

And that was it. Nick stood up, prepared the same exact piece of information, and dropped it off at Peter's house. And James- well, James went to Ivy Curtis's house, only to face an issue.

He watched as his knife immediately went in her back, her black hair now shimmering with blood. He gasped as her body fell on the floor, only to reveal that it wasn't Ivy.

It was Leona.

* * *

Michelle Tran was a genius.

She didn't want to transport the first and second night, only because she was studying everybody to see how they were. She noticed that even though Brandon looked sane, he had this insane look that was carefully hidden.

But not careful enough.

She noticed that Vanessa was hiding everything. That she hid her feelings carefully, and skillfully. Witch, survivor, or arsonist? She didn't know.

She noticed that Jenna was one of those hyper types. One of those that weren't able to contain her energy. She would be a perfect mafioso, or veteran.

She noticed that Ivy had alert eyes. She was a spy, or veteran.

 _A spy, or veteran._

Mafia probably noticed it as well. Or maybe they had a consigliere.

She noticed that Leona had shadows below her eyes. Was she the consigliere that wasn't able to sleep?

But that day, she noticed that Leona was staring at Ivy with a cruel delight, so she knew that Ivy Curtis must have had a good role. A role that was so good that she needed to be killed by mafia.

She needed to be protected.

And even though it was a big risk, she transported Ivy and Leona. It was a weird thing, having to push Leona into the back seat of her van without her recognizing her face. And then having to do the same thing to Ivy? Now that was strange.

But she had to do it anyways. Ivy stopped squirming when Michelle yelled, "It'll save your life!" Meanwhile, she had to tie Leona to the chair to get her to stop moving. It was, again, strange.

But she managed the transport. She gave Leona some gold to keep her quiet, and Ivy, well, she didn't need to stay quiet. Her life was in danger, and she probably just saved it.

She was watching Ivy's house, only to see James stab a knife through her back. She smiled a strange smile and saw James's surprised face as he saw his own ally. Michelle smiled- this was valuable information that she didn't want to share... _yet._

She ran off, and back into her house, waiting for whatever to happen.

* * *

This night, Ivy was shoved into a truck (and luckily, there was still phone service). However, she was also able to read the mafia text messages secretly. She read and read them until she was at her new house, and laughed.

"You sent me to Leona's house?" she asked, but the mysterious transporter already drove away as fast as he or she could. Ivy, with no choice, walked into the house and made herself comfortable as she wandered around with her phone.

She saw nothing but a few items that came with a house, and a computer, as well as a bunch of hard drives, containing information on everybody. Or at least, that was what Ivy thought it was.

She opened her mouth into an "o" shape, and saw that she was a consigliere. She had disks, disks of information that an investigator wouldn't exactly care about. But then she smiled. If mafia was really thinking about attacking her, they would attack the consigliere. Not her.

She sat there and waited to see what would happen.

* * *

Jenna was just sitting at home after a run to Vanessa's house to hide information in places that an investigator would check, but not Vanessa. She smiled as she walked home and screamed as she opened the door.

There was a dog in front of her. Not just a dog. A huge and tall dog, as tall as someone she knew...

EDWARD! Stupid Edward, the stupid werewolf, and whatnot. As tall as Edward, and as slender as Edward as well. He growled as Jenna moved backwards, hoping that he wouldn't attack her.

Edward moved closer, and Jenna closed her eyes. "Please Edward... you know me, don't you?" she muttered, but didn't whimper.

That was when Edward charged at her at full speed, but she didn't scream. She just glared at the werewolf right in the eye, and noticed that he was slowing. That was when she stepped to the side, and Edward ran into a tree.

Knowing that she was fighting a losing battle, she held Edward's head in her hand, and with a loud groan coming from Edward, she slammed his head into the tree. She smiled when she saw that the wood was red, at least, until he stood up, his fur totally covered in blood. Blood was coming out of his mouth, and he looked rabid. Jenna raised both fists, ready to attack, and Edward attacked.

Jenna charged him as soon as he charged, attacking with her teeth, nails, and fists. Edward growled and bit Jenna in the shoulder as she gritted her teeth and bit him until she tasted blood; bitter and strange blood. She bit harder as Edward struggled to get her off, and smiled in delight.

He began to try to remove her, but Jenna took both hands and wrapped them around his neck, hanging on and cutting off his air supply. He seemed to gasp for air after a while, and pulled her off and threw her onto the floor.

Tired, Jenna managed to stand up, and mutter, "Come at me, dog."

Edward and Jenna charged each other, and Jenna felt his claws on her throat. She gasped for air as she choked out, "I hate you," and died.

* * *

Vanessa smiled as she walked outside her house. There was nobody outside, and she wanted to douse a very special person...

She walked over to Leona's house, and ignoring the person inside, she doused the entire house in gasoline. The person inside, also known as Ivy, was asleep, and she smiled as she continued to paint the entire house with gas.

Ivy was still sleeping peacefully, and after painting every little shingle of the house with gas, she took another gallon, opened the window quietly, and poured it all on her as fast as possible. Ivy woke up with gas in her eyes, and wiped them off as fast as possible to see the arsonist, but it was too late.

Vanessa was already gone.

* * *

Peter was at Edward's house, where it was strangely blank. But he smelled metal and blood, and knew that Edward was something... special.

Metal- probably used to restrain him if needed. Blood- if he was trying to break the chains, it would most likely result in blood being shed. But he wasn't here, based on the noises, and Peter felt cold all over. If Edward wasn't here, where was he? And why was he not here?

He heard footsteps behind him, and they sounded too much like a dog running towards him. Panicked, he ran away, not even bothering to turn around to take a look.

But once he got home, nightmare number two was there. The same envelope, with the stamp of thorns, was in his house. And he knew exactly what would be in there, as well as what would happen.

He closed his eyes. _Silence is golden._

He was blackmailed.

* * *

John had absolutely nothing to do. He was at home, curled up into a ball, and under his bed as well, hoping that nobody would see him. There were no screams this night, which was probably meant to give them a false sense of security. But he closed his eyes, hoping that nobody would see him.

Meanwhile, Carrie was right outside his door, waiting for someone to attack John. He saved her life, so why shouldn't she save his? It just seemed to be the right thing to do. But nobody came, and as the sun began to rise, Carrie walked back home to prepare a cup of coffee.

* * *

"They're screwed."

"Please do not use slang. It is unnecessary, and the boss doesn't like it." The second man actually looked nervous, and pushed up his glasses.

"It is necessary." the first man replied, pointing at the screens. "The only person I see potential in is Jenna. I mean, she fought against a werewolf and almost won."

"Agent Wells?" the second man asked. "That's why we chose her. Because of her fighting ability. But she's dead now."

"Ugh. If only she survived. I wanted her as my partner." the first man replied.

"We can't get what we want." the second man added. "Just remember that."

The first man continued to study the screens. "They're going to tear each other apart."

"That's our point- to see the strongest. The last three survivors." the second man said, not even amused. "I can't say I'm shocked. I'm not." He looked up at the first man. "Not at all."


End file.
